Lifeless
by Naivette
Summary: Naminé — She was kept prisoner, while he roamed free. As much as she accepted her responsiblities, she couldn't accept that he didn't have any.


_Lifeless  
_  
**Naminé-centric**

* * *

He was so full of life. That was little for what she could say for herself.

He was always wandering around, running, skating, strolling with friends around the town. He competed in Struggle competitions and enjoyed them, even if he lost. Even in the rain he still went for walks, seeming to enjoy the feel of the raindrops against his skin.

She was stuck inside. Never had she run freely, been on anything with wheels, nor had friends. When it came to the outdoors, she could only watch from her wide window. Her crystal eyes would dart across the window pane to catch the raindrops hit the glass. She would put her hand up against it to try and experience just what it would be like to feel the rain. Never once was she able.

The only time she was able to observe his actions was when she snuck into the computer room, typing away on the keys to see how the blond boy was doing.

She was jealous of him—jealous that he got to experience the wind and the rain, the sunshine and the cool nights under the stars; that he could run and jump, skate and ride; envious of his tendency to laugh every day, envious of his life—so simple, so pure…so _carefree_.

"Naminé—your progress?" The girl lifted her head from the piece of paper she had been focusing on, her eyes widening at the sight of the man.

"Advancing, sir," she replied almost inaudibly. She watched as he approached the white table she sat at, peering at her work over her shoulder. She followed his gaze down to the piece in front of her, only to look back up and see him tilting his head. After a moment she was relieved to see a hint of a smile on his face, his complexion dark and covered in cloth.

"Very promising," he told her. She made contact with his amber eyes for only a second before he turned to reach the door. "Carry on with your work, witch." And just like that, he was gone. The only sound of his leaving was the soft click of her door.

Naminé tucked her pale hair behind her ear before returning to her unfinished sketch, picking up a crayon to fill in the big orbs on the face before her.

Her thoughts drifted back to him. She wondered about his body and face, and how alike they were to somebody else she knew. His features were so similar. But the most synonymous feature had to be the eyes.

They were a color she had never encountered before. She didn't ever leave the mansion, but she saw things—people, places…memories—in her head, in her dreams. When experiencing those people, she had never seen a pair like his. It was only right that the two had the same eyes, which provided more proof that they were connected.

Naminé continued to color in the drawing, having to blend shades of blues to get the right resemblance of what she had seen, not only in her head but in reality. She thought about him again, no longer thinking of his features, but his personality.

_His_ persona was light, carefree, and goofy, but still held that side of earnestness and just. Valor and courage, vigilance and power.

But the other boy's, the one just outside this mansion rather than within, held a different character inside him. He was more reserved, less comical or freewheeling. He was more of an introvert, one who kept to himself and pondered over the things he experienced or the thoughts on his mind.

Even so, Naminé could sense that drive and determination she saw in the other boy. She could feel that bravery within. He stood up for what he believed in, and did what he thought was right—the righteousness evident in _him_.

She had moved on to the hair while she mused, almost finished with the crayon in her hand. It was meant to reflect the sandy-blonde shade of his spikes, another difference she saw in the two. His was messy and to mostly one side, while the other's was virtually everywhere.

Then, she thought of one thing that was both a deviation and a similarity. It made them equal but still not the same. It connected them in a way like their paths.

"Roxas… Sora…"

Their names.

_X_. That one letter made them so different. One was a member of the group full of individuals whose names held the same letter, while the other was destined to fight them. They were fated to be enemies, but also to be one and the same—two parts to a whole. With her in charge of one side, those two pieces would soon be connected. All that was left was for Roxas to find the clues.

Until then, she was to put things back exactly the way they were.

She stared at her finished work, admiring the eyes looking back at her. If only they were the real thing. She began to wonder what she would see in them. Would it be the same as she had seen in Sora? Or would the differences show there as well?

Roxas… He was a Nobody, just as she was. Because of that, why was he allowed to roam free in the town, but she was cooped up like an animal? This was where her envy originated. It took its shape and form from the differences between them as well.

Naminé looked out the window again, putting her hand up against the glass as it began to rain. Roxas… He was most likely living the life Naminé wished she could have. She, on the other hand, was stuck, feeling like her existence held no meaning. Lifeless.

Somehow though, behind all of her jealousy and sorrow, she knew that one day they would be the same. And that things would be as they were destined.

Two Nobodies, connected by the hearts of their Somebodies.

* * *

_Another oneshot. :) This whole writer's block thing is really bugging me, making me incapable of writing more on Chords of Love (my new Roxiné story) or my Twilight story (Sarah, The New Imprint). Especially that last one: long overdue. D:_

_Read and review as you please. _


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